


Shades of Gray

by Pixie (Ayiana)



Category: JAG
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Drama, F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-18
Updated: 2003-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-06 08:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayiana/pseuds/Pixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harm and Mac race against the clock to solve a mystery at the Joint Defense Space Research Facility near Alice Springs, Australia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shades of Gray

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in season nine, but the relationship between Harm and Mac won't make sense unless you've read my earlier story, "A Jag Thanksgiving."

**1300 Zulu (8:00am Local)  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia**

Mac breezed through the quiet bullpen, briefcase in hand, umbrella and coat dripping with rapidly melting snow. She flipped on her office light, put down her case and hung up her jacket and umbrella to dry. Mac loved mornings, and not even a gray and gloomy one like today's was going to bring her down. She headed for the break room, looking forward to a hot cup of coffee before starting work.

Minutes later, Mac leaned against the counter, warming her hands on the hot mug while she considered the day's workload. She had two witness statements scheduled for this morning, and she hoped to finish them early enough to look over her opening statement for the Murphy case this afternoon. It was a tough case. Defending an obviously guilty client against Commander Turner's needle sharp prosecution always exhausted her. She felt prepared, but she knew it was going to be a rough afternoon. Mac turned to drop her coffee stirrer in the trash before returning to her office, and looked up in time to see Harm enter the break room. Harm was not a morning person. In fact, he tended to be rather grouchy until he had gotten a large quantity of caffeine into his system. She smiled at him as they passed, he on the way in, and she on the way out.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully.

"Morning," he grumbled, barely glancing at her as he reached for a large mug. Mac grinned and headed back to her office. She knew Harm wasn't deliberately being rude. He just wasn't quite awake yet.  
She had settled in at her desk and was opening her first case file when her telephone rang.

"Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie," she answered, already beginning to read.

"Colonel?" Coates asked. "The admiral wants you and Commander Rabb in his office immediately."

"On my way," said Mac, already on her feet by the time she set the phone down.

She made it to the admiral's outer office just ahead of Harm, and she tossed a grin at him.

"Little slow this morning, Navy?"

"Nah… I let you win. Thought you could use the confidence boost."

Coates interrupted their banter, an unusually serious look on her face. Something about the tone of Admiral Chegwidden's voice when he'd ordered her to find his senior officers had unnerved her.

"Go right in, Sir, Ma'am," said Coates. "He's waiting for you."

In moments, they were standing at attention in front of the admiral's desk.

"At ease," he ordered. "Take a seat."

It was only after they were seated that Mac noticed the grim look on the admiral's face. She had seen that particular expression on only two other occasions. One was when he learned of Harm's disappearance on the night of her rehearsal dinner. The other was when he told the staff that the Roberts' baby had died in childbirth. Immediately sensing that something was terribly wrong, Mac tensed.

"Sir?" Harm asked.

The admiral stood from his chair and turned to stare out the window for a long moment before returning his attention to the attorneys.

"I'm afraid I've had some bad news," he finally said. "Mic Brumby was killed in the line of duty last night."

Mac gasped in shock, and her hands tightened on the arms of her chair. She fought to maintain an appropriate level of professionalism, knowing that this was neither the time nor the place to fall apart. Harm glanced at her, and then back at the admiral.

"What happened, Sir?" he asked.

"That's a long story," said a voice from the shadows. Mac saw Harm stiffen. She hadn't noticed Clay when they came in, and apparently Harm hadn't either, but it was fairly obvious that her partner wasn't happy to learn of his presence. Webb ignored Harm's reaction, and moved closer to the admiral's desk.

"Ever heard of Pine Gap?" he asked. Both officers shook their heads.

"It's another name for the Joint Defense Space Research Facility. It's a high security intelligence gathering base in the remote Australian outback. We have people there from the NSA, the National Reconnaissance Office, and the CIA as well as the USAF. The work that goes on out there is classified, so I can't give you many details beyond telling you that it's vitally important to Operation Iraqi Freedom. Lately, they've been having some problems out there. It seems some of the locals aren't too wild about the situation in Iraq, and they figure that if they can chase us away, maybe it'll slow down or even stop the war all together."

Harm's eyebrows went up at that.

"Kind of simplistic thinking, isn't it?" he asked. "Surely shutting down one base wouldn't make that big of a difference."

"Actually, it might," answered Webb. "As I said, the work performed there is vital to the war effort."

Mac shifted impatiently. She still didn't understand how Pine Gap had anything to do with Mic. Apparently, Webb sensed her frustration, because he went on.

"About a year ago, there was a big demonstration at Pine Gap." Webb picked up a file from the desk and opened it. He took out two sheets of paper and gave them to Mac. "Here's a list of the names and addresses of the people who were arrested during the protests. Quite a few of them were locals. It might come in handy." He put the folder back down before continuing.

"After the demonstration, things got quiet. Then about two months ago, they started having problems again. Most of the incidents have been relatively minor. One time somebody put water in the gas tank of one of the buses that transports people between their homes and the base. Another time, a single tire was slashed…on each and every bus." Webb shoved his hands in his pockets before continuing.

"Some of the staff have had problems, too. Somebody dumped bags of garbage on an agent's front porch. Two people had their cars vandalized." Webb paused and opened the folder again, this time taking out two pictures and handing them to Harm, who glanced at them before passing them to Mac.

"This is from three weeks ago," said Webb. "These agents were taken from their homes in the middle of the night, blindfolded, driven 20 miles into the outback, and dumped." Webb looked grim. "Luckily, they survived the experience. When they were found, they were severely dehydrated and sunburned, but alive. They could just as easily have been dead."

Mac looked down at the photos she held. In them, she saw two middle aged people, lips cracked and bloody, eyes glassy, faces blistered from the sun. The pictures had obviously been taken in a hospital. She handed them back to Webb, who put them away and took out another, handing this one to Mac.

"This is from two weeks ago," he said. "I have no idea how somebody got close enough to set it up."

Mac looked down at the picture in her hand and had to stifle a gasp. Hanging from the fence were the bodies of four animals. She guessed they were dogs, but it was impossible to know for certain. All of the bodies were badly burned and decomposed. She grimaced and passed the photo to Harm, who glanced at it briefly before returning it to Webb.

"These incidents were reported to the local police, who apparently passed the information up the chain of command. Eventually the situation came to the attention of the Australian military."

Mac drew in a sharp breath. For a few minutes, she'd been able to set aside the news about Mic, but at Webb's words, it hit her again, and she struggled to maintain her control as Webb continued the briefing.

"We have an excellent relationship with Australia. Their government mounted Operation Catalyst in support of our efforts in Iraq. But a lot of Aussies aren't too thrilled about it." Webb leaned against a corner of the admiral's desk close to Mac in silent support.

"Pine Gap is an American installation on Australian soil. It's in an isolated area that is relatively easy to get to. That makes it an obvious target. With that in mind, the RAN decided to send somebody out to have a look around and see if they could find out what's going on."   
Harm and Mac looked at each other.

"Brumby," said Harm, at the same time as Mac's softer "Mic?"

"Got it in one," answered Webb grimly. "Apparently, Brumby went out there and started sniffing around. Three days ago, he notified his CO that he suspected a plot to destroy the base. His CO…" he checked his notes. "A Captain Robert Howell, gave him permission to continue the investigation, and warned him to be careful."

Webb paused to meet Mac's eyes before he continued. "Two days ago, Mic Brumby disappeared. His body was found early yesterday morning. He'd been shot once in the back of the head, and left in the open, near the only road that leads into the base."

Mac's hands tightened on the arms of her chair, and her face paled, but those were the only indications of her reaction to Webb's news.

Admiral Chegwidden took over the briefing, and Mac focused her attention on him.

"I want the two of you down there. If all hell breaks loose, I need somebody in place who knows international law and Australian politics. Mac, give the Murphy case to Lieutenant Roberts. He can handle it for you. I want you both to get me a list of your outstanding cases so that I can get them reassigned in your absence."

He looked at Mac.

"I imagine you'll want to attend Brumby's funeral. It's scheduled for Saturday morning. You can get the details when you get down there." He sat down at his desk, his gaze taking in both officers before he continued.

"After the funeral, I want you both to get to Alice Springs. I've already notified base officials that you're coming. We need to find out what's going on and get it under control as quickly as possible."

"Wait a minute," Harm said. "I thought the trouble was at Pine Gap. Why are we going to Alice Springs?"

Webb answered. "Everybody who works at Pine Gap lives in Alice Springs and is bussed to and from the base. You should be able to do most of your work in Alice Springs, but I've arranged for you to have access to the base when you need it."

Harm nodded, and he and Mac rose to attention, awaiting the admiral's dismissal.

"One more thing," said Admiral Chegwidden. "This is a politically sensitive situation. We need this base, and that means we need to keep the Australian government happy. Whatever you find needs to come back here. I don't want anybody chasing after shadows without orders from me." He looked directly at Harm while he said it, and Mac saw her partner's slight nod. She knew Harm well enough, though, to realize that it was going to be her job to keep him on a short leash. Their C.O. stared grimly into Harm's eyes for a few more seconds before seeming satisfied that he'd made his point.

"Dismissed," he said.

Harm and Mac spun on their heels and left the office, closing the hatch behind them. Mac went directly to her own office and closed the door. She slumped into her chair, but refused to give in to her grief. Instead, she grabbed a note pad and began scribbling notes for Bud about the Murphy trial. She was damned if she was going to fall apart in the middle of JAG Ops, and that meant she had to get out of there, fast. Mac's concentration was so intense that she jumped when she felt a gentle hand on her arm. She looked up, and the sympathy and concern she saw in Harm's eyes was almost her undoing. Desperate to get away, she pushed her chair back and stood. Grabbing her notepad and pen, she slipped around him and stepped quickly to the door.

"I need to discuss the Murphy case with Bud. I'll be ready to go in 45 minutes," she said. She didn't look back, so she missed the worried expression on Harm's face as his hand dropped to his side.

 

**2015 Zulu (8:15pm Local)  
Sydney International Airport  
Sydney, Australia**

Harm and Mac looked around blearily. It had been an incredibly long flight, and though both had tried to sleep, neither had had much success. Mac had spent much of the flight staring silently out the window, and Harm had alternated between his concern for her and his determination to learn all he could about the base at Pine Gap.   
There wasn't much. He now knew that there were twenty-six antennas on the base, fourteen of which were housed in protective domes. He also knew that the technology housed on the base was sophisticated enough to pick up mobile radio and radar transmissions. The Iraqi military regime couldn't be too thrilled about that. Armed with this knowledge, it didn't surprise Harm that there might be people who would want to see the base destroyed.

Beside him, Mac started to move forward, and Harm saw a young navy lieutenant coming toward them.

"Commander Rabb? Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie?"

At their nods, he saluted smartly.

"I'm Lieutenant Ridley. Captain Howell asked me to meet you and escort you to your quarters." Harm and Mac automatically returned the salute, then picked up their carry on luggage, following the young man to baggage claim. An hour later, Ridley delivered them to their hotel. He handed Harm a single sheet of paper.

"This is the information about Commander Brumby's funeral arrangements," he said. "Captain Howell said that you would want to be there."

"Yes, thank you," said Harm, noticing that Mac had turned away into her own room. After the lieutenant had left, Harm crossed the hall, and knocked gently on Mac's closed door. When she opened it, her suspiciously bright eyes made a lie of her cheerful smile.

"You ok?" asked Harm.

"I'm fine," she answered. "Why do you ask?" Harm folded his arms. He recognized in Mac the same rigid self-control that he'd maintained after Jordan's death. He also remembered, with painful clarity, what had happened when he'd finally loosened that control. It hadn't been pretty, and he didn't want Mac go through that if he could help it. The sooner she started dealing with this, the better off she would be.

"Do you want to talk?" he asked her gently.

"Not particularly," said Mac. She turned and walked back to the open suitcase on her bed. She hadn't closed the door in his face, though, and Harm followed her in, closing the door behind him.

"Mac," he said. "Don't do this. It's not healthy."

"Don't do what?" she answered, but she refused to meet his eyes. Instead, she picked up a handful of decidedly feminine undergarments and moved to the small dresser to put them away. A moment later Harm heard a soft thud and a muffled curse as the drawer landed on Mac's foot. She put her hands on the top of the dresser, leaned forward, and dropped her head, finally unable to hold back any longer.

"Mac…"

In two long strides Harm was by her side. He turned her toward him and gathered her into his arms. He didn't say anything, simply holding her while she poured out her grief. They stood that way for several minutes, until Mac's tears finally slowed and she pulled away from him to reach for a tissue from the box on the dresser.

"I'm sorry," she said, as she dabbed at her watery eyes.

"Hey." He captured her chin and gently forced her to look at him. "It's ok." Mac dropped her eyes and tried to turn away, but Harm held her, waiting until she looked back at him. "It's ok, Mac." He said it more firmly this time, wanting to make sure he got through to her. She had to know that he would help her through this.

The eyes that finally met his shimmered sadly in the deepening gloom of the hotel room, and he pulled her close again, wishing he could somehow ease her pain. No matter how conflicted his own feelings had been about Mic Brumby and his relationship with Mac, Harm hated that she had to go through this now. He knew that she had cared deeply for Brumby and that she still felt guilty about the way their relationship had ended. Now she would never have a chance to put things right between them, and Harm suspected the thought was tearing her apart.

He held her as she struggled for control, and knew the moment she'd found it, as her back stiffened and her chin came up. He let her go and stepped back, letting his arms to drop to his sides. He watched her turn and go into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her. While she was gone, he picked up the drawer and slid it back into its place, then turned on a lamp. He was standing at the window looking out into the Australian night when he heard the bathroom door open and turned, his eyes gentle.

"Why don't we grab a bite to eat? I noticed a seafood place just down the street. We could walk there."

"Sure," she said, grateful for the chance to think about something other than Mic. "Just let me grab my purse." Twenty minutes later, they were seated in the quiet restaurant. While they ate, Mac talked about Mic, reliving old memories, and Harm clamped down on his jealousy, knowing that those feelings were inappropriate here. As he had suspected, Mac still felt guilty about the way her relationship with Mic had ended, and although he tried to reassure her that Mic probably understood more than she gave him credit for, Harm knew that she would have to work through this on her own, and that nothing he could do would speed the process.

Toward the end of the meal, he caught himself yawning and smiled apologetically.

"I think it's all catching up to me. What do you say we head back and get some sleep?" He didn't say anything about the funeral scheduled for the following morning, aware that Mac didn't need to be reminded. He paid the bill, and soon they were back at the hotel. After a gentle goodnight, Harm moved toward his room.

"Harm?"

He turned, surprised to find her standing so close behind him.

"Thanks," she said, meeting his eyes.

"You're welcome," he answered, and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He gazed into her eyes, trying to translate the myriad messages hidden there, but she dropped her eyes, and reached to straighten his collar. After a long moment, she spoke.

"I know you never liked Mic," she started, but Harm interrupted her.

"Mac, I never disliked Mic. I just never thought he was right for you," he said. "I hate to see you hurting like this. I've been there. It's not fun." He captured her restless hand in his, and without thinking, dropped his head to kiss her fingers. When he lifted his head, he froze, captured by the look in Mac's eyes.

"Mac?" Her name came out with what felt like all the breath in his lungs as she stretched up and gently joined her lips to his. He tried to keep the kiss simple, but it quickly spun out of control as gratitude changed to something more.

Without conscious thought, Harm wrapped his arms around her, molding her soft body to his firmer one. He traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, and his heart leaped when her own tongue darted out to meet him. Her hands kneaded his shoulders before moving to play with the hair at the back of his neck, and he pulled her closer still, deepening the kiss, vaguely aware that he was rapidly approaching the point of no return.

At the end of the hall, the elevator chimed, and the sound startled Harm to awareness. He pulled back, but kept his hands loosely linked around Mac's waist. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and slightly bemused.

"Wow," she said.

"Yeah," he answered. So much for their famous lawyers' eloquence.

"Listen, Mac. I'm … sorry. That was out of line." She placed one gentle finger on his lips, and Harm found it hard to resist kissing it.

"Never say you're sorry," she said. "It's a sign of weakness."   
He smiled. "We should get some sleep." He tried to convince himself to move away from her warmth.

"Yes," she said, making no move to pull out of his arms. He rested his forehead against hers, and they stood that way for a long time.

Finally, Mac sighed.

"I should go," she said.

"Yes," he answered, and reluctantly dropped his hands. He watched her turn away and cross to her room. He ached to call her back, but he knew that if he touched her again, he wouldn't be able to let her go. Instead, he turned and went into his own room, closing the door gently, but waiting to hear hers close before moving to get ready for bed.

 

**2300 Zulu (10:00 am Local)  
Woronora Cemetery  
Sydney, Australia**

Mac stood silent and dry eyed, her eyes fixed on the flag draped casket. Beside her, she was aware of Harm's reassuring presence as they observed the too familiar customs of a military funeral. An honor guard stood a short distance away, rifles in reverse arms position, awaiting orders to fire the traditional farewell volley. Mac dreaded that moment, aware that it would be nearly impossible to control her reaction when the rifles fired.

Mac knew that she was here as a representative of her country, and as a Marine, and because of that, she forced her face to remain impassive, her back straight and shoulders back. But in her mind, she relived her time as Mic's lover and fiancé. Mic had been a good man - honest, brave, and deserving of a woman who would love him with all her heart. Mac had tried to be that woman. For a while, she had almost convinced herself that she could be happy spending the rest of her life with him.

When he had first asked her to marry him, Mac had been confused and uncertain. Harm had just turned her away, and she needed time to decide what to do next. Mic's proposal had shocked her, but it had also let her know that she was a desirable woman, and she had needed that reassurance then. She'd told Mic she wasn't sure, but he'd been patient, convincing her to wear his ring on her right hand until she made up her mind. She had been reluctant, but had eventually agreed.

As the months passed, Mac began to appreciate that Mic was a good man who truly loved her. She convinced herself that she could be happy with him, moving his ring to her left hand and finally agreeing to set a wedding date. Looking back on it now, Mac knew that she had allowed herself to be swept away both by Mic's charm, and by her response to Harm's painful rejection. Still, it wasn't until Harm's plane crashed in the Atlantic Ocean on the night of her rehearsal dinner that she'd realized that she could never be the wife that Mic deserved.

Even then she had fought it, trying to convince herself that she could make it work. Mic had been wiser than she, though. He had recognized that her heart belonged to Harm, and he had set her free. Now, standing at his graveside, Mac acknowledged the incredible gift Mic had given her, knowing from her own experience how painful it could be to love someone and let him go. She blinked back tears, and sent a silent thank you winging to the heavens.

"ArrrrrrTen SHUN!!!"

The drill sergeant's voice shocked her out of her reverie, and she jerked her head up. The honor guard was preparing for the closing volley. She took a deep breath, and when the rifles cracked, their sound jarring the quiet summer morning, she did not flinch. She continued to stand straight and tall while the bugler played taps and the flag was ceremonially removed, folded, and presented to Mic's mother.

It wasn't until the crematory doors opened, and the simple unadorned casket began to roll slowly inside, that tears began to slide down Mac's cheek. Harm seemed to sense her precarious emotional balance, and moved closer, putting a gentle hand on her arm. Mac glanced up at him with a small watery smile and accepted the handkerchief he offered.

They watched as the casket slid silently into the darkness. In the final instant before the doors closed, Harm and Mac came to attention and snapped a salute. They stood that way, arms bent sharply at the elbow, hands shielding their eyes, until the doors closed and Mic's casket disappeared forever.

Mac and Harm started toward their rental car, talking quietly about the funeral. They stopped when they saw Captain Howell, recognizing him as Mic's commanding officer. Both officers saluted the older man, and Captain Howell returned the gesture before leading them away from the departing mourners.

"I'm sorry that your trip to our fair country had to come under such tragic circumstances," he said, his Australian accent thick with suppressed sadness.

"Me too, Sir," Mac said softly.

"Before you leave, I need to speak with you about Commander Brumby. Will you join me for lunch?" Harm and Mac agreed, and soon they were sitting in a small restaurant, enjoying more of Australia's renowned seafood. While they ate, the three spoke casually about life in Washington, but as they neared the end of the meal, the captain pushed his plate aside and leaned forward.

"The last time I spoke with Commander Brumby, he told me something that you should know." Harm and Mac waited, wondering what information the captain could have that they did not already know.

"Just before he disappeared, the commander told me that he'd heard a disturbing rumor. It seems part of a shipment of explosives that'd been ordered to enlarge some underground chambers was missing." At these words, Harm and Mac looked at each other in concern.

"Is that possible, Sir?" Harm asked.

"That's what I asked the commander," said Captain Howell. "I'm afraid I didn't take the news as seriously as I should have." He took a sip of his beer. "That was the last I time I spoke with Commander Brumby." He looked from one officer to the other. "I don't know what kind of hornet's nest you're getting into on that base, but I thought you should know everything before you go in." He stood, and Harm and Mac automatically stood, too.

"I'll leave you now. I wish you luck, and I'm deeply sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, sir," Harm and Mac said in near unison. They exchanged another brief salute, and Captain Howell departed, leaving the partners to puzzle over the new information.

**1:00 Zulu (10:30 am Local)  
Outback Motor Lodge  
Alice Springs, Australia**

When Harm and Mac checked in at their hotel in Alice Springs, the desk clerk handed them a folded piece of paper. Harm opened and scanned it.

"Major General Preston wants us for a briefing at Pine Gap in an hour. He's sending somebody to meet us."

"That's fine," she answered. "I could use a few minutes to freshen up." They finished checking in and found their rooms, stopping outside Harm's door.

"I'll meet you back here in twenty minutes," said Mac, and continued on to her own room.

Their rooms were clean and bright, simply decorated and accented with aboriginal art prints. The air felt fresh, and thanks to the air conditioning, blessedly cool. Harm pulled a clean uniform out of his luggage, glad to know that the hotel had a laundry service. He'd need to send a uniform for cleaning after their meeting. Thirty minutes later, Harm and Mac were reviewing the case file when they heard a knock at the door. Harm opened it and returned the salute of the young second lieutenant who stood outside.

"I'm Lieutenant Laconi, Sir. General Preston requested that I show you to Pine Gap. If you're ready, we'll leave immediately." Picking up the case file and their covers, Harm and Mac followed the dark haired lieutenant to the jeep parked just outside the hotel. Twenty minutes later, Harm and Mac got their first look at Pine Gap.

On first inspection the sprawling base, nestled in a broad and shallow valley, resembled any other military base. The eight foot chain link fence topped with razor wire would not have seemed out of place on any of dozens of other bases that Harm and Mac had been to over the years, and all military personnel were familiar with the guard houses and gates that blocked entrance to the grounds. Scattered buildings, most appearing to be warehouses of some type, dotted the landscape.

Here, the sense of familiarity ended. The place practically bristled with satellite dishes, radar antennas, and radomes of various sizes. The thing that struck Harm the most, though, was the almost eerie silence. Every military base he'd visited had hummed with activity. People and vehicles were constantly on the move. Here, though, there was none of that. He saw a few people moving about the grounds, but the vehicle he and Mac traveled in appeared to be one of less than a dozen scattered about the base. Webb had said there were nearly a thousand people working here, and Harm couldn't help but wonder where they were all hiding. He glanced at Mac. She looked as puzzled as he felt.

Before he could comment, the jeep pulled to a stop in front of a nondescript building and Lieutenant Laconi got out, coming around to open the doors for Harm and Mac. Never ones to wait on ceremony, they were already out and waiting by the time Laconi reached them, and the three went into the building.

"If you'll wait right here for just a moment, I'll be right back," Laconi said, already moving toward a large guard desk that dominated the foyer. He spoke with the guard for a moment, and then motioned Harm and Mac over. The guard requested to see their identification, which he carefully inspected, glancing repeatedly back and forth between the id tags and the two officers who stood before him. Finally satisfied that they were who they said they were, he picked up a phone and spoke a few words into it while he reached into a desk drawer. He pulled out two tags and gave one to each of the officers.

"These are visitor id's," said the guard. "We've already begun the process to confirm your security clearances. We should have upgraded passes for you before you leave." He handed their military id's back to them.

"Thank you," said Mac. She and Harm attached the visitor badges to their uniform blouses and followed Lieutenant Laconi to a nearby bank of elevators. A few moments later they emerged into a long hallway, and Laconi led them past several closed doors with secured entry keypads on the outsides. The lieutenant eventually showed them into a small conference room, and all three snapped to attention when they saw the two officers who awaited them inside.

"Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie and Commander Harmon Rabb Junior reporting as ordered."

"At ease," commanded General Preston, his voice coming from deep within his barrel chest. "Have a seat. Lieutenant, you are dismissed. "

"Yes, Sir," answered Laconi, and spun on his heel to leave the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Colonel, Commander, this is my second in command, Colonel Eaton." Preston indicated the middle aged woman who sat next to him. "Colonel Eaton will be your contact during this investigation." Harm and Mac nodded at the Colonel, who smiled warmly in return.

Preston continued. "I assume you've been told about the explosives that have come up missing?" Harm and Mac nodded, but it was Harm who spoke.

"Yes, Sir. Captain Howell informed us just before we left Sydney."

"Then I expect you will want to get started immediately. I will make my staff available to you. Colonel Eaton should be able to answer any questions you might have." He looked closely at Harm and Mac, and they wondered what he was thinking. Then he continued, "I hope you can straighten this mess out for us in short order. Now if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to." Preston's chair creaked as he stood up. The other officers rose with him, and came to attention, only relaxing slightly after the general had left the room.

"Please be seated," said Colonel Eaton in a surprisingly soft voice. "I'm not much for formality." She offered Harm and Mac a glass of cold water, and seemed almost disappointed when they both declined. Then she began her briefing.

"This base has been here since 1968. We started with just a couple of buildings and two radomes. Today, we have upwards of 20 buildings, with 26 antennas, 14 of which are enclosed in the protective domes. I'm sure you noticed most of that on your way here." Harm and Mac nodded, and Colonel Eaton continued.

"Those antennas receive information from four geo-stationary satellites positioned over the Indian Ocean and Indonesia. They intercept a wide range of microwave transmissions, including mobile telephone, telex, and the Internet. They even locate and intercept signals from mobile radio and radar transmitters. We can actually listen in to Iraq's military planning sessions.

"The heart of the complex is here, underground. This is where we take all of the data collected by all those antennas and feed it into massive computer banks. The computers parse the data - analyzing and classifying it before feeding it back to our technicians, whose job it is to interpret it and identify those pieces that are of interest to our government. General Preston and I review the information collected, and relay it to the appropriate military and government personnel."   
She paused to take a sip of water.

"That's the incoming portion of our job here. There's also the other side of the coin." Harm and Mac looked up from their notes.

"After we send all that information off to Washington, they take a look at it, and decide what they want to do. Right now, most of what comes back to us relates to targets in Iraq. They tell us what they want to target, and we uplink the coordinates and even program the missiles. Most of the time, though, we're all about listening and interpreting." She stopped talking and waited for Harm and Mac to finish writing. Then she took some documents out of a file on the table, and handed copies to both attorneys.

"You'll find most of the information I've just given you in these briefing materials. There's also a list of known dissidents who have been to the base within the past five years. I'm afraid it's a long list, but maybe you will uncover something that will help you in your investigation. And now, if you'll come with me, I'll give you a brief tour of the facility."

They spent the next two hours touring the base. They started just outside Level A, a completely self-contained cavern buried deep beneath the earth. Colonel Eaton explained that only about twenty people had clearance for this area, which housed the main data banks and memory storage centers. Every piece of information handled on the base came through Level A sooner or later.

They took an elevator from Level A up to Level B and entered the main computer complex, a single room so huge that technicians wore headsets that allowed them to contact their peers on the other side of the room. Row after row of computer terminals filled the cavernous room to the bursting point. Huge data screens filled the wall space, and the constant hum of activity forced Harm and Mac to raise their voices. Around the perimeter of the main room there were offices for the command staff. Each office had its own elaborately keyed security system, and only the officer who worked in the office and Level A staff knew the codes.

The tour ended in a cafeteria on Level C. The three of them selected sandwiches and bottled water and sat down to eat at a spotless table in a brightly lit corner. Harm couldn't help noticing that Colonel Eaton was very popular at the base. Several times on their tour they had had to stop so that the colonel could talk to somebody or answer questions. Surprisingly, the conversations often appeared to be personal in nature. Unusual though this was in a military setting, it soon became obvious that the quiet woman was well liked and respected.

When the meal neared its end, Colonel Eaton wiped her mouth with her napkin and pushed her chair back.

"If you will excuse me, I'll go check on your id badges," she said.   
"They should be ready by now. "

Harm and Mac started to rise.

"No, don't worry about it. You two stay here and finish your lunch. I won't be gone long, and as long as you don't leave the cafeteria, security won't be a problem. I'll just be a moment."

"Yes, Ma'am," Harm and Mac answered, and sat back down. With a warm smile, Colonel Eaton turned and was gone.

"So. What do you think?" Mac asked Harm when the colonel had left.  
"Impressive," he answered. "I'm not sure what Brumby could have found or how. I haven't seen any potential security weaknesses that could be exploited by saboteurs, have you?"

"No," said Mac. "But that doesn't necessarily mean anything. If these people have somebody on the inside…" She trailed off, thinking of the implications of that remark. Harm whistled softly.

"And if that insider didn't like Mic Brumby…" He stopped, turning his head and sniffing the air.

"Do you smell that?" he asked.

"What?" asked Mac.

"It's…" he didn't finish the sentence. His eyes had started watering, and his nasal passages were on fire. Mac began to cough. She looked around for the source of the unpleasant odor. Around them, others were also coughing and looking around. The fumes, whatever they were, burned into Harm's lungs, and he gasped for breath. Standing, he grabbed Mac's arm, and the two of them started to work their way toward the nearest door. Mac stumbled, her eyes watering so badly she could hardly see where she was going. Harm put his arm around her waist and the two of them bent low to the floor, searching for fresh air as they continued to make their way toward the emergency exit. The fumes seemed to intensify, and Mac couldn't catch her breath. Her lungs burned, and her eyes watered, and a strange metallic taste filled her mouth.

"Come on, Mac. Stay with me. We've got to get out of here," choked Harm.

"I…..can't," she gasped.

"Yes, you can, Marine!" he said urgently, alternately pulling and pushing her until they finally reached the exit. The door opened, and strong arms pulled her out of the room. More hands reached for Harm, and they found themselves pulled up the stairs and out of the building into the bright sunshine. Mac collapsed, and Harm caught her just before her head hit the concrete. His own eyes were streaming, and his lungs still burned as he leaned over her. He sighed in relief when he confirmed that she was still breathing. Around them, people were coughing and gasping for air. A few lay on the ground, apparently unconscious. In the distance, sirens wailed. He coughed again, and looked around.

"We need help over here," he gasped, his voice weak from the chemicals.

"Right away, Sir." Harm was surprised to see Laconi approach. "I'm an EMT, Sir. I can help."

"What happened in there?" asked Harm.

"I don't know, Sir. We're still bringing victims out. Luckily, there weren't very many people in the cafeteria. We should have them all out soon." Laconi leaned over Mac, and checked her pulse and respiration rate. As he finished, Mac groaned and coughed, then reached up to rub her eyes. Harm caught her hand.

"Don't do that, Mac. You'll only make it worse," he said, his own eyes still watering.

Mac rolled to her side, and sat up. Harm reached to steady her, but she refused his help, every inch the angry Marine. Harm suspected that when Mac figured out who was responsible for this, that person was going to regret it.

"I think she's going to be ok, Sir, " said Laconi, "but you both need to get checked out at the Alice Springs Hospital. I don't know what that stuff was, but you don't want it eating away at your lungs."

"Thank you, Lieutenant, we'll do that," Harm answered. "Ummm… how do we get there?"

"No problem, Sir. Ambulances are on their way for the people who are critical. Everybody else can ride the bus." Harm looked up to see two buses approaching from the north.

Two hours later, their strange day ended back at the Outback Motor Lodge. Their eyes had been flushed at the hospital, and Mac had had to undergo a chest x-ray to check for lung damage. They'd been sent back to the hotel with strict orders to rest for 24 hours and were now in Harm's room. Colonel Eaton had shown up at the hospital, full of apologies and concern. Apparently, somebody had introduced a concentrated mixture of sodium hypo-chloride and ammonia to the air conditioning system. The resulting fumes had been pumped throughout Level C. Luckily few of the injuries were serious and most would recover within twenty-four hours.

"How do you feel?" asked Harm, as Mac stretched out on the bed and rested her arm across her eyes.

"Like I've swallowed hot coals," she answered. "I guess that answers our question."

"Which question?"

"Now we know for sure that somebody inside has to be involved."

Harm agreed. "I'm glad Colonel Eaton thought to bring another set of those briefing papers to the hospital for us. I want to go over them again…see if anything jumps out at us."

"General Preston is probably desperate to sort this out before things get any worse," said Mac.

"It's never a good idea to keep a two star waiting," said Harm, pulling the papers toward him where he sat at the small table. "Let's see what we have." He scanned the list and his eyes widened. He let out a low whistle.

"What?" asked Mac, her eyes still closed.

"There must be three hundred names here." Mac sat up at that.

"That'll take us forever. There must be some way to narrow it down." She rubbed her eyes and came over to where Harm sat. "Here, let's split the list. Maybe something will click." Harm handed her the first two pages of the list, and she sat down, reading through the names and addresses and waiting for inspiration to strike.

"Webb told us that there was some kind of demonstration out here last year, right?" Harm finally asked.

"Right," Mac nodded.

"After that, things were quiet," Harm went on.

"Right again," Mac said, not sure where Harm was going with this.

"And this latest batch of problems started recently, right?" he said.

"Yes," Mac said, checking her notes, "about 3 months ago. Why?"

"I know it's a long shot, but what if we correlate our lists? I wonder how many people are on Colonel Eaton's list and also on Webb's list. And of those, how many were in town when the incidents occurred? Once we get there, we can look for people who have access to the base."

"Sounds like a plan," said Mac. "Where's that list Webb gave us?" Harm handed it to her. They worked steadily for two hours, stopping only when the fading afternoon forced them to turn on a light. When they finished, they had seventeen names that fit their profile. It was a big improvement over the hundreds of names they had started with, and they were satisfied with their work. Mac stood and stretched, working the kinks out of her back.

"We should get these names to Bud," said Harm, as he reached for the telephone. "He might be able to get us some more information."   
Mac reached out, stopping Harm from picking up the phone. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's 4:30 in the morning back home, Harm. I don't think Bud's at work yet."

Harm chuckled.

"You're probably right. I guess we'd better wait a while."

"Let's eat. I'm starving," said Mac, earning a grin from her partner.

"Go figure," he said.

"Hey!" she laughed. "That was uncalled for."

"I know." But he wasn't apologetic. "True, though."

"Whatever." Mac grabbed her purse. "Let's go." She didn't wait to see if he was behind her as she left the room. Harm chuckled and hurried to follow. It was good to see her laugh again.

Two hours later, they returned to the room. They stopped outside Harm's door.

"If you want to get some sleep, I'll check in with Bud and the admiral," offered Harm.

"I am tired," said Mac. "You're sure you don't mind?"

"Positive," he confirmed. "We'll start the interviews tomorrow morning. There's nothing more we can do tonight."

"O.K.," she conceded - a sure sign that she was still feeling the effects of their earlier adventure. When she had closed her door, Harm went into his own room and picked up the telephone.

"Chegwidden," came the familiar voice, amazingly clear despite the thousands of miles that separated Alice Springs and Falls Church.

"Admiral, it's Commander Rabb,"

"Rabb, do you have a status report for me?"

Harm told him about Brumby's funeral, their meeting with Captain Howell, and about his early impressions of Pine Base. He ended with the incident in the cafeteria earlier in the afternoon.

"Sounds like things are heating up down there," said the admiral, when Harm had finished. "What are your plans?"

"Well, sir, we've got a list of people we want to interview. We'll start first thing tomorrow morning." Harm picked up the list he and Mac had come up with. "Admiral, is Bud in? I'd like him to check out some of these names – see if he comes up with anything that might help us out."

"He's here. I'll switch you over. Keep me posted."

"Yes, Sir." Harm said, and heard the click that indicated he was being transferred. A moment later, he heard Bud's voice.

"It's good to hear from you, sir," said Bud. "The admiral told us about Commander Brumby. Is Colonel Mackenzie ok?"

"She's fine, Bud. Listen, I need you to do me a favor." Harm went on to explain what they were doing, ending by giving him the list of names.

"I'll get started on these right away," said Bud. "Is there anything else I can do?"

Harm thought about that for a minute, and decided to trust his instincts.

"Yes, one more thing."

"Sir?"

"Mac and I have a feeling that somebody on the inside of that base is involved in this. I know it's a lot to ask, but I'd appreciate it if you'd run a check on the command staff. See if anything pops up that sets off alarms."

"Yes, Sir, right away."

"Thanks, Bud. I'd appreciate it if you could get back to me as soon as possible."

"Yes, Sir. I'll get right on it." Bud hesitated. Then, "Sir, will you tell Colonel Mackenzie we're thinking about her?"

"I'll do that," said Harm. He ended the conversation and hung up. Time to get some sleep.

 

**2200 Zulu (7:30 am Local)  
Outback Motor Lodge  
Alice Springs, Australia**

Mac knocked on Harm's door, ready to get started. She felt much better this morning. The pain in her throat was almost gone, replaced by a steely resolve to get to the bottom of things. When Harm opened the door, she strode inside and over to the table where they had left their notes the night before. She picked the list up, comparing it to the map on which they had marked the residences of the people they needed to talk to.

"I'll take these," she said, sweeping her hand over the eastern part of the territory they had outlined. "I'll meet you back here for lunch at thirteen hundred hours."

It was nearly lunch time when Harm pulled up in front of a sprawling single story home. He collected his cover and stepped out of the car, straightening his uniform blouse as he approached the door. A tiny, immaculately dressed elderly lady answered his knock. Her bright eyes sparkled as she looked him up and down appreciatively. Harm was used to being stared at when he wore his summer whites, but it was unnerving to be ogled by an octogenarian.

"What can I do for you?" the woman asked, in a surprisingly strong voice.

"Ma'am, I'm Commander Harmon Rabb, from the United States Navy," he said. "I'm investigating a situation out at Pine Gap. Do you have a few minutes to answer a couple of questions?" Her smile widened as she continued to stare at him. Harm wasn't entirely sure she'd heard a word he'd said, and he shifted uncomfortably. Apparently, she had heard him, though. She opened the door and gestured him inside.

"Absolutely, young man," she said. "It's not every day that I get a visitor as handsome as you." Harm followed her into a spacious living area. The room was clean and bright. Family pictures abounded on every available surface.

"Have a seat." She gestured to a nearby sofa. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thank you, Ma'am," said Harm, sitting down on the edge of the seat.

"Relax," she giggled. "I'm not going to bite you." Harm laughed and sat back.

"Now," she said. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, as I said, I'm here about Pine Gap." Her expression clouded, and she tensed.

"Hmm… I guess I was hoping I'd heard you wrong. I can certainly think of more pleasant ways to spend my afternoon than talking about that abomination." Harm's eyebrows rose. "You do know the history, don't you?" she asked.

"I know it was built in 1968, but that's about it," he answered.

"Hmmmm…" She pursed her lips. "If you've got the time, I'll tell you all about it. It'll take a while, though. You sure you don't want that drink?"

"I'll have a glass of water if it's not too much trouble," he answered politely.

"Be right back," she said, and disappeared through a doorway he hadn't noticed when he'd come in. While he waited, Harm wandered around the room. Large aboriginal art prints adorned the walls, while small sculptures and bark paintings were displayed on the table tops and shelves. Harm stopped to admire a particularly spectacular piece, when a small framed picture caught his attention. Careful not to disturb the items around it, he lifted the photo and brought it closer. Several of the people in the image wore the uniform of the Royal Australian Navy, and he was staring at one person in particular when he heard Mrs. Blake return. He turned, the picture still in his hand. She took it from him, and looked at it fondly.

"That's from our last family reunion," she said. She pointed out some of the people and told Harm a little about them. They were obviously a very close-knit group. Harm experienced a fleeting stab of envy. He'd often wondered what it would have been like to be part of a large extended family.

"Stunning group, aren't we?" Mrs. Blake's voice resonated with pride. She put the photo carefully in its place.

"Yes, Ma'am," answered Harm, moving back over to the couch. She sat down across from him and waited while he took a sip of his water.

"Your government and mine stole that land, you know." Harm's eyebrows went up at that. This lady didn't mince words.

"That land originally belonged to my ancestors, the Arrernte people. It was stolen from us by a man named Jim Bullen. And the land was taken from him by the Australian government in order to give your government a place to build their space base." Mrs. Blake was obviously bitter, and Harm paid close attention to her words, needing to understand what motivated the protests against Pine Gap. She took a deep breath before going on.

"Mr. Bullen refused to sell the land to Americans, but he was willing to sell it to the Australian government. They paid him a pittance, then turned around and let your government build their base." She glared at Harm, as if the whole thing was his fault. "Your people brought danger to my homeland. That base sits there, listening to the skies. Everybody knows what's going on over there. We all know that you're looking for targets for your bombs. We know that the information you gather there causes death somewhere else."

She slumped in her chair, defeated. "We know, but we can do nothing about it. Our protests fall on deaf ears. We're arrested and punished for saying what we think." She looked sadly at Harm. "My people have lived on this land since the Dream Time. But one day, somebody is going to drop a nuclear bomb on your precious base, and my people will die. This saddens me, and it makes me angry."

She stood abruptly. "I am sorry if my passion offends you, but I feel strongly about this. That base does not belong on Australian soil. And now, if you will excuse me, I have an appointment." She showed him to the door, polite but firm.

"You know," she said, just before she closed the door. "It's too bad we had to meet under these circumstances. I would have enjoyed getting to know you better."

"Me too, Ma'am," answered Harm. He returned to his car, his mind busily rearranging the information he had just learned and trying to fit it with what he already knew. He needed to get in touch with Bud – soon.

Harm arrived at the hotel to find Mac waiting for him. Her frustrated expression told him that she'd had an unsuccessful morning. He told her what he had seen at Mrs. Blake's house, and about her obvious bitterness toward the base. They agreed that it was time to call Admiral Chegwidden. Luckily, the admiral answered his phone promptly.

"Chegwidden."

"Admiral, it's Commander Rabb."

"Rabb, do you know what time it is?" the admiral barked.

"Yes, Sir, and I'm sorry. You said to keep you posted." He hesitated.

"There's been a development."

"What is it?" The admiral sounded tired, but alert.

"I had an interview today," Harm said. He pulled out his notes. "A Mrs. Blake. Apparently, her ancestry is aboriginal. She claims the Australian Government stole the land for Pine Gap from her people. She's pretty bitter, sir."

"You think she's involved?" asked A.J.

"No sir. Not directly, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"While I was there I got a close look at a family photograph she has," said Harm.

"And?" The admiral sounded impatient.

"Sir, I'm almost certain Captain Howell was in that picture."   
Harm heard the admiral suck in his breath.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, Sir. "

Admiral Chegwidden sighed. This case had suddenly gotten a lot more complicated.

"I need to talk to the SecNav about this. You going to be around for a while?"

"Yes, Sir. Mac and I need to go over our notes."

"All right. Stay put. I'll call you back." The admiral disconnected, and Harm hung up, turning to look at Mac.

"Do you think he's involved?" she asked.

"My bet?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, I think he's in it up to his neck."

Mac's eyes widened as a thought struck her.

"You don't think he had anything to do with Mic's death, do you?"

"Mac…" Harm hesitated. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to tell her what he really thought, either. He finally settled for "I don't know."

Mac didn't look happy with his answer, but she didn't press the issue. Instead, she gathered her notes and sat down at the table.

"Let's see what we've got," she said.

Harm ordered sandwiches from room service for both of them, and they sat down to work. When the telephone rang thirty minutes later, they both jumped.

"Rabb," Harm answered.

"Commander, it's Chegwidden. I just got off the phone with the SecNav. Looks like I'm coming down there." He sighed. "I hate that flight, but this a political nightmare, and I don't think you should be the one to confront Captain Howell."

"Agreed, Sir." Harm said. "When will you be here?"

"There's a flight in a couple of hours. I'd better hurry if I'm going to catch it. I'll call you from Sydney."

"Yes, Sir."

"Rabb?"

"Sir?"

"Stay out of trouble," warned the admiral.

"Yes, Sir." There was a click as their CO disconnected the line. Harm turned to Mac.

"He's coming down."

"Here?"

"Not here. He's going to Sydney. He wants to interview Captain Howell himself."

"Oh," said Mac.

"Yeah, Oh."

"Well, let's finish going over these notes. It'll be another day before the admiral gets here. We should be able to finish up here by then." She bent her head, and Harm wondered what she was thinking.

By late afternoon, they had finished updating the case file. It was obvious that the locals had mixed feelings about the Space Base, the name they commonly used to refer to Pine Gap. Some people were very accepting of its presence, but others adamantly opposed it. It was easy to see how a group of like minded people could get carried away. Harm just hoped they could find out who was in charge before somebody else got hurt.

"I don't know about you," Mac finally said. "But I could use some fresh air. I'm going to have a run before it gets dark. Want to come along?"

"I don't know, Mac. I'd probably leave you behind…" Harm grinned.

"I doubt it, Flyboy," she laughed. "I'll meet you at the front desk in 10 minutes." She left, and a little while later the two of them were jogging down the street. They discovered a bike trail along the Todd River, and followed it, enjoying the fresh air. Harm picked up his pace a bit, but Mac easily kept up. Then, she took the lead, and he found himself struggling to keep up.

"Problems, Harm?" Mac asked innocently over her shoulder.

"No problems," he answered, and they raced along the path, collapsing at last under a shady tree. Harm gasped for air and wiped the sweat from his face.

"Nothing like a little jog to work the kinks out, huh?" Mac grinned.

Harm looked at her suspiciously, but her eyes were wide and innocent. Just as he was about to turn away, the corner of her mouth twitched and he snapped his head back, causing her to dissolve into laughter. He shook his head, and grinned at her.

"You're out of shape, Harm," she taunted.

"I am not!" he answered indignantly. He rose to his feet, and reached out a hand to help her up. She accepted with a smile, and they walked back to the hotel in companionable silence.

"I want a bath," Mac said, as they entered the lobby. "Meet me in 20 minutes and we'll get some dinner, ok?"

"Sounds good," he answered. He opened his door and switched on the light.

"Harm!"

The urgency in her voice caused him to move quickly to her side.

"What is it?" he asked. Mac didn't answer, instead gesturing silently through the partially opened door.

He pushed the door open a little wider, and whistled. Her room was a disaster. Clothing, some of it torn beyond repair, had been thrown haphazardly into the corners and across overturned furniture. The dresser drawers lay on the floor, twisted and broken. Mattress stuffing covered every visible surface and trailed across the carpet.

Harm wished he had his service revolver as he eased around the corner and turned on the light. Mac followed him in, providing backup. He hoped that whoever had been here was long gone. Careful not to touch anything, he scanned the room rapidly for any sign of movement. The room appeared to be empty, and he inched his way further inside, checking in the corners, behind the drapes, and underneath the bed. Mac eased her way slowly toward the bathroom door, and Harm moved to the other side of the doorframe.

When they were both in position, Mac kicked the door open and turned on the light in one fluid motion. Harm dragged the shower curtain open. When they were satisfied that the room was empty they breathed a sigh of relief. They turned and saw their own faces reflected back at them. The words "Go Home Yanks" were scrawled across the glass with a bar of soap.

"I don't understand," Mac finally said. "Why my room and not yours?"   
Harm shrugged.

"Maybe they thought you'd be easy to intimidate, and that if you left, you'd take me with you." He grinned crookedly at her. "Obviously, they don't know you," he finished.

"Harm, this isn't funny." Mac was annoyed, and Harm knew this was no laughing matter. He found the telephone and called the front desk to report the break-in, then helped Mac collect her things.

"I think you'd better stay with me tonight," he said quietly.

"Harm, I don't need a babysitter."

"Mac, it's not about that. Look, There's no way this room will be fit to live in by tonight, so the manger will have to find you a different one. It'll be pretty hard to back each other up if you're on the other side of the hotel."

Mac sighed and zipped her suitcase. She knew he was right. That didn't mean she had to like it. It wasn't that she didn't want to be close to Harm. It was more that she wanted it more than she dared to admit. Staying in Harm's room, even on the couch, was a prescription for disaster, and she wasn't sure she had the strength she needed to make it through. Harm noticed her preoccupation, and reached out to turn her toward him.

"Mac," he said gently. "You'll be safe. I promise you that."

Mac heard and understood the double meaning in his words. He meant safe from whoever didn't want them around, but he also meant safe from him. She wasn't sure either of them was going to be able to keep his word, but she was grateful to him for understanding her dilemma. She sipped her suitcase and looked around, checking to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. That was when the hotel manager finally showed up. He whistled.

"What happened here?" he asked.

"It was like this when I got back from my run," answered Mac. The manager noticed her suitcase.

"We're full up, I'm afraid. I've got no place else to put you…"

"That's ok. I'll share the room with my partner," said Mac, her look daring the portly man to comment. He backed down, twirling his bizarre handlebar moustache with a nervous index finger.

"Right then, I'll just ring up the police. You'll be next door?"

"Yes."

"Right then," he said. "Cheers."

Mac looked at Harm, who quirked an eyebrow at her and lifted her suitcase. She grabbed her purse and followed him, leaving the hotel manager murmuring distractedly to himself. Back in Harm's room, she called dibs on the shower, and emerged ten minutes later feeling almost human again. While she waited for Harm to shower and dress, the phone rang.

"Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie," she answered.

"Colonel? It's Bud."

"Oh, hi, Bud," said Mac. "What are you doing up at this hour? It's the middle of the night there." Bud yawned audibly, and she grinned.

"I wanted to get this information to you and Commander Rabb," he answered. "I was up with the baby anyway, so it's no big deal."

"What did you find?" asked Mac.

"Well, not much, really. Three of the people on the list you gave me have criminal records. Simple assault, larceny, nothing major, but one of them seems to make a habit of it."

"Give me their names, Bud." Mac took out a pen and grabbed a notepad. He did, and Mac jotted them down. She made a quick note about the repeat offender.

"Ok, we'll make sure we check them out. Did you find anything else?"

"Not yet. I'm still checking. Commander Rabb asked me to check out the command staff, too. It turns out that a couple of them have family right here in Washington. I thought I'd talk to them and see if anything turns up.

"Thanks, Bud. We appreciate it."

"Colonel?" asked Bud.

"Yes?"

"Are you…ok?" he hesitated. "I mean, the admiral told us about Commander Brumby, and we're all sorry about what happened…"

"I'm ok, Bud." Mac knew Harriet was probably pulling at his sleeve, and she smiled at the predictability of the two of them. "And tell Harriet that, too."

"Yes, Ma'am," he answered. They ended the call, and Mac turned in time to see Harm come out of the bathroom, hair still wet from his shower.

"Who was on the phone?" he asked.

"Bud. He had some information for us. I jotted down the names. They're on the notepad." Harm picked it up and scanned the names. One of them seemed to catch his attention, and he took out his notes from his earlier interviews.

"Damn," he said, softly.

"What?"

"I was hoping I was wrong," Harm said.

"About?"

"Remember my interview today? Mrs. Blake? The one who was so anti Pine Gap?"

"Yes…"

"Tim Blake is her son."

Mac immediately realized the implications. "We need to let the admiral know."

"There's nothing we can do about it tonight. He's on board Qantas airlines somewhere over the Pacific Ocean."

Mac's stomach growled, and Harm grinned at her.

"I think that means it's time for dinner. Come on. We can't do anybody any good by standing here worrying. Let's get something to eat."

They got a quick dinner at a nearby restaurant, and were soon back at the hotel. Mac took a clean t-shirt and some shorts out of her luggage and disappeared into the bathroom to change. When she came out, Harm was leaning back against the headboard, flipping through the channels on the television. Mac grabbed the other pillow and a blanket and moved across to the couch.

"Mac," said Harm. "There's no way you're going to be able to sleep on that thing. It's hard as a rock."

"I've slept in stranger places," she answered.

"Look, I said you'd be safe with me, and I meant it. We shared a bed in Paraguay and nothing happened, did it?"

Mac decided not to point out the fact that their relationship had changed in subtle ways since that fateful trip. This was one time that discretion really was the better part of valor.

"Well, the bed does look more comfortable," she finally said. She conceded defeat and put the pillow back, climbing under the covers and twisting her neck so that she could see the TV. Harm laughed.

"You look like an ostrich," he said.

Mac glared up at him.

"Thanks a lot," she said.

"Come 'ere," he said. He put an arm around her and hauled her up beside him. Her head came to rest on his shoulder, and his arm settled naturally at her waist.

"There," he said. "Better?"

"Mmmm," she answered, listening contentedly to the steady thump of his heart beneath his t-shirt. Morning person that she was, Mac fell asleep quickly, completely unaware that she snuggled in closer to his side as she did so.

Mac always had a certain amount of trouble adjusting to new time zones, and a trip to Australia virtually guaranteed several late night awakenings. This night was no different. Mac gradually became aware of a feeling of warmth and utter contentment, though it took her a few moments to recognize the source of those feelings. Apparently, she had fallen asleep in Harm's arms. She considered that for a moment and decided she liked it. But now her neck had a crick in it from the unnatural angle. Harm didn't look much better off. He'd fallen asleep propped against the headboard, the television still flickering on the other side of the room.

Too lazy to get up and walk around the bed, Mac eased herself to her knees. She stretched across Harm, reaching to pick up the remote control from its place on the small bedside table. Just then, he mumbled something in his sleep and shifted restlessly, and Mac lost her balance and slipped, landing heavily across his chest. She instantly felt Harm's arms tighten around her, and he opened his eyes. His initial look of surprise at finding her sprawled across him was quickly replaced by something much warmer, and his eyes darkened as he slowly trailed his hand up her back. Mac's breath caught in her throat and she froze. She knew they had stumbled into dangerous waters, but she didn't have the strength to pull away.

A small voice in Mac's head urged her to get as far away from this man as she could…fast. But her stubborn body refused to obey the command. She lay there, completely unable to move, as Harm tilted his head and placed the gentlest of kisses at her temple. He pulled back slightly and looked at her, and she sensed that he was waiting for her to tell him to back off. When she didn't say anything, he tilted his head again, but this time he kissed the tip of her nose.

Mac found herself completely unable to stop herself. She slid her hand up his arm and stretched up to meet the next kiss. Her brain stopped functioning when she felt Harm's lips move gently against her own as his hand caressed her back. It was Mac who deepened the kiss, her tongue flicking lightly at the corner of his mouth. Harm groaned in the back of his throat and opened his lips to her.

This kiss. Here. Now. This kiss was different from any kiss she had ever experienced. She had been kissed by Harm before, but never this way, and never with the full knowledge that they both knew exactly what they were doing. And she had certainly kissed other men. But what she felt for Harm went so much deeper than anything she had felt for any other man, that it changed everything. His kiss turned her inside out in the space of a heartbeat, and she sensed that it was about to get away from them, but she was powerless to do anything about it.

Apparently, Harm had more self control, because even as Mac acknowledged the danger they were in, he pulled back slightly, easing her down until they were lying facing each other, eyes wide in the dim light of the hotel room. With one hand, he brushed the hair away from her face so that he could see her better.

"Mac…" His voice was hoarse, and Mac knew he was struggling for control.

"Mac, I made you a promise, earlier, and I'm not going to break it," he said. "I want this. I want it so badly I ache with it." His honesty surprised her, but she lay quietly and waited for him to continue. "But this isn't the time or the place." Her eyes flew to his in surprise and hurt. He was rejecting her again, and the humiliation was overwhelming. She started to pull away, but he refused to let her go.

"No," Harm said firmly. "I'm not letting you get away from me until you've heard me out."

"I've already heard this speech," said Mac, bitterly.

"No, you haven't. The last time we had a conversation that even approached this one I said 'not yet'."

"And the difference is…?" Mac asked.

"The difference is that this time I'm going to make damn sure you understand what I mean."

"What might that be?"

"That is…" he paused, ordering his words in his head. "If we make love, and I sincerely hope that we will, I don't want it to be an accident of timing. I don't want it to be about gratitude or pain or desperation. I want it to be about us and what's right between us."

At his words, Mac relaxed slightly. She hated that his overdeveloped sense of honor had put a stop to that mind blowing kiss, but at least he wasn't pushing her away completely.

"Mac, we've struggled for eight years to build something between us. We've had some rough times, but we've survived them. Through all the ups and downs, the good times and the bad, we've been there for each other. We've worked hard to get to where we are today, and no matter how much I love you, I'm not going to risk throwing it all away because some jerk with an attitude forced you to share my room for the night."

Harm abruptly ran out of steam, seeming almost to deflate before her eyes. Mac was in shock. He'd said it. He'd actually said the words. After all these years she had almost given up hope. Hell, she'd even doubted he felt the words, much less that he would ever be able to actually say them.

It dawned on her eventually that Harm was waiting for her to say something, and she realized with a jolt that he was nervous. She propped herself on an elbow and looked down at him, her heart in her eyes. She traced his jaw line with one finger, startled when he reached up and caught her hand, holding it still against his chest.

"I love you too, you know," she said, with a small smile. She heard him catch his breath, and his smile lit up the room.

"No, actually, I didn't know that," he said. "But I'm awfully glad you do."

He pulled her into another spectacular kiss, and Mac knew that she didn't care what had caused her to be in this bed right now. She would gladly give this man anything he asked for tonight. Promise or no promise. Harm, however, had more control than she did, and he finally pulled away. After their breathing finally returned to something resembling normal, he pulled her close against him, spooning himself around her protectively. They fell asleep that way, neither awakening until the bright light of day scattered the shadows from the corners.

 

**16:15 Zulu (11:15 am Local)  
Jag Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia**

Bud stopped beside his wife's desk and waited patiently until she looked up.

"I'm headed out to interview a couple of people for Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie. I should be back by the end of the day, but I might run late."

"No problem. I'll just pick up the boys and meet you back home whenever you're through." She smiled up at him. "I can always work on this U.S.O. stuff after they're in bed."

"I'll see you at home later, then."

When Bud arrived at his second interview of the afternoon, he was glad that he was in uniform. The stately mansion, set back from the tree lined road and surrounded by rolling, snow covered lawns, announced it's owners' wealth in no uncertain terms. Bud rang the bell and heard the mellow tones chime somewhere deep inside. The door opened immediately, and Bud's expectations of grandeur faded. The elderly gentleman who greeted him wore a clean, but faded, USAF sweatshirt and well worn slacks. His sparse gray hair was carefully brushed, and he was clean shaven, but his feet were bare, and he danced from foot to foot as cold air flooded over them.

"You must be Lieutenant Roberts," he said. "Come inside before I freeze." Bud removed his cover and stepped across the threshold, stepping to one side as his host closed the door behind him. That task done, the older man turned and thrust his hand out at Bud.

"Tom Eaton," he said. "Welcome to my home."

"Thank you, Sir," said Bud, impressed by Mr. Eaton's firm grip and friendly smile.

"Follow me. We'll be more comfortable in the den." The older man took Bud's coat and hung it on a brass hook beside the door before showing Bud into a warmly decorated room filled with overstuffed furniture and antiques. An elderly woman stood from her place near the crackling fire and came over to greet them. Like her husband, she was neatly but simply dressed, and her smile was friendly.

"Lieutenant Roberts, I assume?" Like her husband, she extended her hand, her grip firm and confident. "Please, have a seat. Can I get you a drink?"

"No, Ma'am. I'm fine, thanks," answered Bud as he sat down on a small couch.

"Before we start, let's get one thing straight, young man," said Mr. Eaton. "I am not a Sir, and my wife is not a Ma'am. We're old enough not to want to be reminded of it all the time. Please, I'm Tom, and my wife is Marcia."

"Yes, Sir…er, Tom." Tom and his wife looked amused as he stumbled, but they graciously kept their peace.

"Now, what can we do for you?" asked Tom.

"Well, Sir…" Tom and Marcia grinned at each other, but Bud didn't even notice. Some habits were just impossible to break. "I'm a JAG attorney, stationed here in Falls Church. We've been investigating some problems at one of our bases in Australia. Pine Gap?"

"Our daughter is stationed there," said Marcia, a note of pride in her voice.

"Yes, Ma'am. I know. That's why I'm here."

"Is Caroline in trouble?" Tom sounded alarmed.

"No, Sir. Not at all. We're just trying to get to know a little bit more about the officers who are stationed down there. Sometimes we find clues in surprising places, so we spend a lot of time asking questions."

"Hmmm… I see. All right then. What would you like to know?"

"Well, Sir, anything you can tell me about Colonel Eaton might be helpful. Has she ever been to Australia before now?"

"Oh my, yes," said Marcia. "We love it down there. When Caroline was little we used to spend the winter there every year. Remember, Dear?" Marcia looked at her husband, who smiled fondly.

"Caroline was a regular little Outback kid," he said. "She and her brother spent more time outdoors exploring the wilderness than they did with their mother and I."

"You have a son?" Bud asked. Marcia picked up a framed photo from a nearby table and handed it to him, her expression sad.

"That's Michael with Caroline," she said. "He was killed in action during the Gulf War."

Bud studied the proud officer in the photo. He appeared to be in his early thirties when the picture was taken. He had his arm around his sister's waist, and the two of them were grinning for the photographer. They looked happy together, and Bud swallowed, thinking about how he would feel if his own brother were killed in action.

"I'm deeply sorry for your loss, Ma'am," Bud said, as he handed the picture back to Marcia.

"It's ok. Much as we miss him, we know he died honorably. We're very proud of him."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm sure you are."

"Anyway, we were talking about Australia," Marcia said, brightening.

"Remember how much fun they used to have with that friend of theirs? What was his name…The three of them were inseparable."

"Robert?" Tom suggested.

"That's it!" She looked pleased. "Didn't he join the military too? "

She looked to her husband, who nodded.

"Navy, I think. We haven't heard from him in years."   
"He was such a nice boy." Marcia smiled fondly at the memory. "I wonder what he's doing these days…"

"Ma'am, I hate to interrupt, but I'm kind of short on time. I have three move interviews to finish today and my wife won't be pleased if I'm late for dinner."

Tom chuckled. "I know that feeling." He said, earning a playful glare from his wife.

"Is there anything else you can tell me about Colonel Eaton that might be of help?" asked Bud.

"Can't think of anything right now, " said Tom. But if you'll leave your card we'll give you a call if we think of something."

"Thank you, Sir. I'd appreciate it." Bud handed Tom a card from his pocket and stood to leave. "I appreciate your taking the time to meet with me. I know this is a busy time of the year."

"We always enjoy company," said Marcia. "Keeps the day interesting." She smiled at him as they walked to the door.

A few moments later, Bud was back in his car and on his way to get some lunch before his next interview. It was interesting that Colonel Eaton had spent some time in Australia as a child, but he wasn't sure the information would help Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie. He gave a mental shrug. He'd pass it on. You never could tell what might turn out to be important.

 

**9:47 Zulu (7:17 pm Local)  
Outback Motor Lodge  
Alice Springs, Australia**

Harm and Mac had spent the day finishing up their interviews. Most of the information they gleaned provided little insight into what was going on, but they did discover some interesting trivia. They were especially entertained by a story about a time when four locals rode their bikes onto the landing strip in an attempt to keep a large military aircraft from landing. They were unsuccessful. All four were arrested and charged, but Harm had to admire their courage.

At the end of the day, they met back at the hotel and discussed their findings, ultimately agreeing that they were at a standstill until after the admiral talked to Captain Howell. Harm was putting their notes in order when the telephone rang, and he reached across the table to grab it.

"Commander Rabb."

"If I never have to make that flight again it'll be too soon," said Admiral Chegwidden by way of greeting.

"I understand, Sir," said Harm.

"Any new developments I should know about?"

"Yes, Sir. Two." Harm went on to tell the admiral about what had happened to Mac's room and about the information that Bud had been able to track down.

"Bud says he's not finished with the list yet. He still has a few names to check out."

He heard the admiral's long sigh.

"O.K., I'll take it from here with Captain Howell. I have a meeting with him tomorrow morning. I'll let you know what I find out."

"Yes, Sir."

The line disconnected and Harm hung up the phone, standing up to stretch the kinks out of his back. He knew that for the time being there was nothing else to be done, but he'd be glad to hear from the admiral tomorrow. Something about this whole thing made his skin crawl, and he was anxious to put the case behind him and get back home.

 

**22:00 Zulu (9:00 am Local time)  
Anzac War Memorial  
Sydney, Australia**

A.J. Chegwidden had made it a point to be early for this meeting. He wanted a chance to think carefully about what he was going to say. The last thing he needed was for this to blow up in his face. If Captain Howell was involved, as Rabb seemed convinced that he was, A.J. would have to be very careful indeed. They didn't have any hard evidence yet. Just suspicions. And if Howell made a run for it, there would be nothing A.J. could do to stop him. He heard footsteps approaching and turned to see Mic Brumby's former commanding officer coming toward him on the path. The men's white uniforms gleamed brightly in the morning sun, and more than one passerby stopped for a second look. With a final brief thought about honor, A.J. walked to meet the captain, returning Howell's salute.

"Admiral," said Captain Howell, "You've come a long way."

"Yes, I have," agreed A.J., without elaborating.

"Commander Brumby's funeral was several days ago. I'm afraid you're too late…"

"That's not why I've come," A.J. interrupted. Captain Howell stopped walking and looked over at A.J. curiously.

"It's a great time of the year for a holiday here. May I give you some suggestions about things to see?"

"I'm not on vacation."

"Oh." Captain Howell seemed puzzled.

"You're aware that Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie are in Pine Gap?"

"Yes, I met with them just before they left," said Captain Howell. "Told them everything I know."

"Hmmm, yes," said A.J., noncommittally. "Well, they've brought something to my attention, and I wondered if you had a moment to talk with me about it."

"Sure thing, Mate. Fire away."

"Do you have any family in Alice Springs?" at A.J.'s words, Captain Howell tensed slightly, his reaction nearly invisible except for the fact that A.J. was looking for it.

"Yes, I do. Me Aunt's out there. And some cousins." Captain Howell sounded wary, and A.J. continued cautiously.

"You close?"

"I visit occasionally, why?"

A.J. turned, and pinned the captain with his eyes.

"Is Tim Blake one of your cousins?"

Captain Howell didn't answer.

"Rabb has met your Aunt, Captain. Says she's pretty strongly opposed to the base."

"What's that got to do with me?" Captain Howell demanded.

"Nothing… except for an interesting coincidence I discovered when I talked with Admiral Koch this morning. "

"And that would be?"

"Well, oddly enough, it seems you've been on leave each time one of these recent incidents occurred. You were even out of town the day Brumby disappeared."

"So what? A man's free to visit his family now and again."

"Oh, absolutely. Family's the most important thing there is." Admiral Chegwidden hesitated, regretting the necessity of his next words. "Do you mind if I take a look at your service revolver?"

"You bet I mind." Captain Howell was blustering now. He was defensive and angry, and his reaction instantly convinced Chegwidden that Harm's instincts were right on target… as usual.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to hand it over."

 

"You can't do that. You don't have jurisdiction!"

"No, but I can, Howell, and if you don't turn it over right now you'll find yourself sitting in the brig faster than you can say 'kangaroo'."

"Admiral Koch!" Captain Howell snapped to attention, his face blanching as his commanding officer approached on the trail. The admiral was flanked by two MP's, who moved to stand on either side of the captain, blocking his escape. Howell seemed almost to deflate before A.J.'s eyes. He slumped, and his shoulders dropped, his proud military bearing rushing out of him in one deep breath. He slowly pulled out his service revolver and handed it to one of the MP's. Then he turned back to A.J., his eyes sad, but still defiant.

"I don't regret it, you know."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't regret killing Brumby." Admiral Chegwidden resisted the urge to reach out and throttle the man. Brumby had been a good man, and a good officer. A.J. didn't always agree with his methods, but he'd been honorable, and he'd been good to Colonel Mackenzie. A.J. stared into the eyes of Brumby's killer, shocked to see a complete lack of remorse.

"No?" was all he could bring himself to say.

"No…" Howell's chin came up defiantly. "He knew too much. Got in the way of what we were trying to do out there."

"And what was that?"

"That base needs to go, Admiral. You Yanks've got no right spying on people from our land." Howell smiled slightly. "It's ok, though. You've got me, but you're too late. Nothing you can do will stop it now." A.J.'s pulse leaped.

"What do you mean?"

Captain Howell stubbornly refused to say more, and as A.J. watched the MP's drag off their prisoner, he flipped open his cell phone. He had to talk to Rabb and Mackenzie.

 

**23:30 Zulu (9:00 am Local)  
Outback Motor Lodge  
Alice Springs, Australia**

The telephone phone rang just as Mac finished drying her hair. Harm was in the shower, and she reached across and grabbed the telephone, hoping it was the admiral.

"Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie."

"Lieutenant? It's Bud."

"Oh, hi, Bud."

"The commander told me to call if I found out anything else about those names he gave me."

"And?"

"Well, I've found something else, but I don't know how helpful it is."

"Spit it out, Bud." Mac had always preferred the direct approach.

"The second in command out there… Colonel Eaton?"

"We've met her."

"I met her parents today. Did she tell you that she used to spend summers in Australia when she was a girl?"

"No, but I don't see that it matters."

"Well, Ma'am, apparently she and her brother were real good friends with one of the locals." Mac heard Bud shuffle some papers. "Here it is, Ma'am. Her brother's name was Michael, and their friend's name was Robert. I'm afraid I didn't get his last name. "

"That's O.K., Bud. Anything else?"

"Not really, except for the fact that Colonel Eaton's brother was killed in action during Desert Storm."

"Are you sure, Bud?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"OK. Thanks. Good work."

"You're welcome, Ma'am. And Colonel?" He hesitated.

"What?"

"Take care."

"We will. I'll talk to you soon, Bud. Give Harriet and the kids my love."

She disconnected, but before she could put the phone back on its base, it rang again.

"Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie."

"It's Chegwidden."

"Hello, Sir."

"Colonel, you've got trouble. You need to get out to that base immediately."

"Yes sir, I know. I just spoke with Bud."

"Bud? What's he got to do with it?"

"He told me about Colonel Eaton…"

"Colonel Eaton?"

"Yes, he said…"

The admiral didn't give her a chance to finish.

"Tell me later. Listen. We have Captain Howell in custody. He's confessed to killing Brumby."

Mac caught her breath, shock slicing through her at the admiral's news.

"Colonel?"

"I'm here."

"I know it's a shock, but you need to set that aside for a while. One of the last things Captain Howell said to me before they led him off was that it was too late to stop what was going to happen on the base. I need you and Rabb out there immediately. I'll contact the base as soon as I get off the phone with you and let them know you're on your way."

"Yes, Sir."

He hung up, and Mac set the phone down in time to see Harm coming out of the bathroom, still scrubbing his hair with a towel. She grabbed her cover, and slid her service revolver into her waistband as she slipped into her shoes.

"We need to get out to the base."

"Why the hurry?"

"I'll explain on the way."

Moments later they were in the car, and Mac quickly outlined her conversations with Bud and Admiral Chegwidden. Harm barely seemed surprised when she revealed Mic's murderer, focusing instead on the current situation.

"So… we know that Captain Howell killed Brumby." He paused in thought. "Wait. Do you have the case file handy?"

"It's right here, why?"

"I seem to remember Webb mentioning Captain Howell's first name. Is it in there?"

"Hang on a sec. I'll check." She flipped quickly through the folder, looking for the notes from their briefing with Webb.

"His first name is Robert, why? It's a fairly common name…"

"I know, but what if it's the same Robert that the Colonel's parents were talking about?"

"That would mean that Eaton and Howell know each other, and if Howell killed Mic, and something else is still planned out there…

"Yeah…That means Eaton is probably our man."

Mac grinned. "You mean 'our woman'."

"Whatever."

They reached the base and waited impatiently while the guards at the gate checked their identification. Once through, they sped to the main building and dashed inside, skidding to a stop at the security desk.

"Where's Colonel Eaton?" The urgency in Harm's voice startled the guard.

"I'm not sure. Would you like me to page her?"

"No, that's ok. We'll find her." Just then, the elevator doors opened, and they dashed inside, jabbing the button that would take them down to Level B. Long seconds later, Harm and Mac emerged into the noisy room, their eyes already scanning for Colonel Eaton. Harm signaled, and he and Mac split up, she going to the right, and he to the left. They worked the room, checking everywhere for the Colonel, but they didn't see her. When they met back at the elevators, Mac shook her head at Harm. Harm considered for a moment, and then grabbed a headset from a nearby technician.

"Can this thing broadcast to the whole room?"

"Yes sir," came the puzzled answer, "But…"

"Do it," ordered Harm, standing on a chair and fitting the headset over his ears.

"Does anybody know where Colonel Eaton is?" His voice boomed out into the room, and all activity ceased as heads turned their way. A hand went up in the back of the room, and Mac hurried over.

"Where is she?"

"She said something about having to check some data down in Level A."

"Thanks."

"Harm, she's down in Level A!" yelled Mac as she ran back towards him. He jumped down and returned the headset to its owner. Just then, the emergency evacuation alarm sounded, its harsh tones causing the room to erupt into controlled chaos. Not waiting for an explanation, Harm and Mac dashed for the elevators. The doors opened, and Harm nearly ran over General Preston.

"What's going on here?" He asked, his deep voice booming across the hallway and into the data center.

"Sir, it's Eaton," said Harm, trusting that Preston would know immediately what he was referring to.

"Come on," said Preston. As soon as the three of them were on the elevator, the general punched the button. On the way down, Harm quickly explained what they had found, and by the time the doors opened again all three officers had their weapons out and ready.   
The hallway was deserted, the guard desk unattended. The three officers exchanged grim looks, and Preston quickly executed the security code. They pushed through the heavy door.

"Take one more step and we're all dead."

Colonel Eaton stood in the middle of the room, a small electronic device clutched tightly in her hand. Harm glanced around the room and noticed small packages attached to the sides of several of the tall data banks that filled the room.

"You're just in time for the big bang," she said. "I had hoped I could finish setting this up before you came down, but it looks like I wasn't quite fast enough. It's a good thing I wired the antennas first. I'm almost done now." She glanced at Harm and Mac.

"You know, I pulled the evac. alarm to clear the base," she said. "I don't want to kill anyone. There's been enough of that already. I even tried to warn you, but I guess it was too much to hope that you would leave after what happened in the cafeteria and at the hotel." She glared at General Preston.

"It's all your fault, you know. You and your cronies. All eager to fight your wars. None of you care about the people who get killed. My brother died fighting one of your wars, and all you people did was say some lame words about honor and country and go back to killing." She looked sadly at the device in her hand and sighed. "It doesn't matter anymore though. It'll all be over soon."

Harm wasn't about to let things end this way. There were three of them, and only one of Colonel Eaton. He hoped they could stop this before she pushed that button. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mac signal to him. She started edging her way slowly around the room, working her way behind Colonel Eaton. Harm's adrenalin notched up even further, but he stayed calm. One wrong move, and they would all be dead. He tried to distract Colonel Eaton hoping he could keep her from noticing what Mac was doing

"Why?" he asked. She laughed, but there was no trace of warmth in her voice.

"That's what they always want to know," she said. "Why, Why, Why, …?" She giggled, and Harm knew she was on the edge of losing control.

"Does it really matter why?" she asked.

"It matters to me," he said, but that only made her laugh again.   
"Right." Her voice was sarcastic. "I'm supposed to believe that you, a total stranger, care two pennies about what happens to me?!"

"Yes," he said firmly. "I do care." That made her laugh even more, and her hand shook on the detonator. Harm caught his breath. The last thing he wanted to do was to make her push that button. "I know exactly how you feel. My father died in Vietnam."

Eaton looked vindicated. "Then you know what I'm talking about."  
Harm noticed that Mac had worked her way almost behind Colonel Eaton. She nodded to him, and Harm started to move very slowly toward the colonel. He sensed General Preston moving, too. Suddenly, Colonel Eaton realized that Mac was gone. She spun around wildly, and Harm jumped to grab her arm, accidentally knocking the detonator free.

Time slowed as all four tracked the device with their eyes. He felt Colonel Eaton cringe when it hit the wall and fell to the floor.

Nothing happened.

Harm sighed in relief, pulling Colonel Eaton's arms behind her back to keep her from going after the device.

"I don't understand!" she cried out. "It should have worked! Bobby said he checked it out after he caught Brumby with it!"

"Well, apparently he told you wrong," Harm said grimly. At that moment, four security guards burst through the door. In seconds, two of them had Colonel Eaton handcuffed and led her from the room. The other two began carefully disconnecting the explosives and removing the small packages from the data banks. Harm and Mac secured their weapons, and Harm turned to the general.

"If you will excuse us, sir, we need to contact our CO and tell him what happened here."

Preston nodded. "Dismissed." They were on their way out the door when he spoke again.

"Commander Rabb? Colonel Mackenzie?"

"Sir?" They stopped and turned.

"Good job."

"Thank you, sir." They saluted, and waited until General Preston returned the gesture before leaving the room.

 

**19:00 Zulu (7:00 pm Local)  
2812 M Street, Apartment 4  
Washington, D.C.**

 

Harm set his briefcase down and hung his cover on the hook beside the door. Today had been his first day back at the office after the long flight back from Australia. It had a surreal feel to it. Much had happened, and although in many ways his life was still the same as it had always been, much had changed. Brumby was dead. One of America's most important military installations had almost been destroyed. And, most amazingly of all, he and Mac had finally admitted their feelings for each other.

He still couldn't quite believe that last. Who would have guessed that Brumby's death would be the catalyst that would finally bring the two of them together? The irony of that would not have been lost on Mic, but Harm felt fairly certain that he would have been ok with it. Harm suspected that Mic had seen things a lot more clearly than anybody had given him credit for.

Harm hung up his coat and stepped into the kitchen to start making dinner. Mac would be over soon, and it was a safe bet that she would be hungry when she got there. He and Mac still had a long way to go. They had hurt each other many times, and all of those skeletons would have to be put to rest before they could move forward. He didn't know where he had finally found the courage to tell her that he loved her, but he was incredibly glad that he had. What a relief it had been to discover that she shared his feelings. It had taken them a ridiculously long time to get to where they were today, and he intended to make sure she knew she wasn't going to get away from him again.

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and he opened it to see Mac standing there. Snow was melting on her shoulders, and a few flakes still gleamed in her dark hair. Her eyes sparkled up at him, bright with the cold, but her smile was warm. Harm reached out and pulled her gently through the door and into his arms before closing it with his foot and zeroing in for a kiss. When he finally raised his head, he kept her close in his arms, amazed that he finally had the right to do this. He smiled softly.

"Hi."

**Author's Note:**

> My deepest gratitude to Melissa for being my sounding board, to Craig for educating me on all things Australian, and to Aerogirl for her red pen.


End file.
